


Dear Chill Hunters

by bookish_sister



Series: Dear Chill Hunters [1]
Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz, Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson, Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: Ace Christian, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst, Bi Evelyn, Bi Jerilyn, Bi Vincent, Bi Zakiy, Bulimia, Connie and Michele Get High, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Gay Alex, Hamilton References, Healthy Sibling Relationships, JD is Having None Of Janet's Shit, Janet Kleinman is a Fucking Bitch, Janet and Michele are Cousins, Lesbian Janet, Lesbian Michele, M/M, Multi, Pansexual Connie, Squip redemption, Steven Universe References, demisexual Jamie
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-09-02
Packaged: 2018-12-08 05:24:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11639805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookish_sister/pseuds/bookish_sister
Summary: Hey, you! Ever wanted to see the characters of Dear Evan Hansen, Be More Chill, and Heathers genderbended? No? Well, too bad!





	1. We Can Be Beautiful

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Alright, so, this is my first official crossover on this account. Hopefully I do all the characters justice while also giving them slight changes in personality and mood. I hope you all enjoy this. Please leave constructive criticism.

**Ch. 1 - We Can Be Beautiful**

**\---**

_Three weeks ago…_

“Omphf.” Jamie Dean hefted a heavy box into the back of her mom’s old pickup. Stepping back, she wiped her brow before closing off the trunk.

“That’s the last of ‘em, Ma,” her mother called back from the front of the truck. Jamie rolled her dark gray eyes before responding.

“Okay, load up, honey,” she replied, playing into her mom’s roundabout game of Loving Mother and Daughter. She looked up, squinting at the sun before unhooking a pair of sunglasses from the front of her dark teal shirt and placing them on her face. She untied the sleeves of her blue flannel from her waist, straightened them out, then tied them again. She leaned back against the trunk of the pickup, crossing her arms and blowing her long, dark fringe out of her face. Why her mom had decided to bring them to Portland, Oregon during the summer was beyond her.

Why her mother liked to see her suffer was beyond her as well.

A pitiful mrrow broke Jamie out of her reprieve. She looked down to see her black cat, Mischief, pawing sluggishly at her equally black boots. Her fur was matted and shiny, and Jamie knew she wasn’t the only one who was suffering today.

“Aww, Mischief, my poor baby,” she crooned, picking up the sweltering feline and drawing her to her chest. “Don’t worry, Missy, you’ll be out of the sun soon, I promise.” She brought Mischief up to her eye level and touched their noses together. “Mommy promises, yes she does…”

“Jamie! Stop messing around with that mangy thing and get in the car!”

Jamie rolled her eyes. “Yes, Ma…” a beat passed. “And she’s not mangy!” She turned back to Mischief. “Don’t listen to her, Missy. You’re not mangy. She’s the mangy one. Yes she is. Yes she is…”

“Jamie!”

“Comin’, Ma!”

**\---**

_Present day - September 1st, 2017_

Vincent wrote down today’s date in his diary. Today was the first day of senior year. He sat at a lunch table alone, having gotten there early. Lucky for him, because that meant he could write and not be disturbed.

‘ _September 1st, 2017._

 _Dear diary, I believe I’m a good person. You know, I think there’s good in everyone, but… Here we are! First day of senior year! And, I look around at these kids I’ve known all my life and I ask myself: “What happened?"_ '

Vincent flinched as he heard insults being traded left and right. Shaking his head in disapproval, he grabbed a tray and stood in the long line. God, how he wished things had stayed the same as they were in kindergarten. He remembered happy, shiny little children running around chasing each other. Singing songs, clapping tunes. Laughing hard, napping soft. He remembered Easy Bake ovens and Elmer's glue bottles.

But, all good things had to come to an end. They got bigger, and that was the trigger. They all changed so quickly, lumping themselves in with groups and cliques. It only got worse in high school.

But this was senior year. As in Vincent’s last year in this hellhole. Only a year away from ivy-covered walls and smoky French cafes. All he had do was resist the urge to set this dump ablaze…

_Thud!_

“Whoopsies…” A girl in a red cheerleader outfit smacked Vincent’s lunch tray out of his hands, giggling cruelly. It was Rae Sweeney, cheerleader. This was her third year as pyramid base. It was also her eighth year of smacking lunch trays and being a little bitch.

“What did you just call me, nerd?!” Rae yelled angrily. Vincent then realized that he had said all of that out loud.

“...N-Nothing,” he replied sheepishly. The cheerleader scoffed and walked away, flipping her ponytail behind her. Vincent ran a hand through his hair and breathed a sigh of relief. God, high school was terrible.

Still, Vincent held onto the hope that maybe, just maybe, people could change how they were, go back to the way it was before. They learned to be kind once, surely they could do it again. They could be beautiful…

A tap on his shoulder shook him out of his thoughts.

“Agh!” He yelped, jumping back to see Martin Dunnstock, his best friend since diapers, standing in front of him holding his lunch tray and diary. “Oh, hey, Martin.” He grabbed his items from Martin’s hands.

“Hey.” The two shared a smile before Martin leaned around Vincent to grab a tray of his own. “We still on for movie night?”

“Yeah, you’re on Jiffy Pop detail, remember?”

Martin nodded. “I rented ‘The Princess Bride’,” he said, excited.

Vincent laughed. “Again? Don’t you have it memorized by now?”

“What can I say? I’m a sucker for a happy ending.” The two shared another smile before a girl with pigtails in a cheerleader outfit ran up to them.

“Martin Dumptruck! Wide load!” She smacked Martin’s lunch tray out of his hands before laughing in his face. This was Kate Kelly, head cheerleader. She was the smartest girl on the cheerleading squad…

Which was essentially like being the tallest dwarf.

“Hey!” Vincent exclaimed, stepping in between Martin and Kate. “Pick that up right now!”

Kate’s look of amusement quickly turned to one of anger. “I’m sorry, are you actually talking to me right now?” she scoffed incredulously.

“Yes, I am.” Vincent was officially fed up with these girls. “I wanna know what gives you the right to pick on my friend. You’re a high school has-been waiting to happen. A future mother of seven.”

The cafeteria was silent. Kate stared at him angrily for a moment. Then, she smirked. “You have a zit right there…” she whispered-yelled, pointing to the middle of his forehead.

The cafeteria erupted in laughter. Vincent raised a hand to cover his forehead subconsciously, before catching himself. He angrily stalked off to the lunch table, Martin tailing behind.

As soon as he sat down, he snatched his pen out of the rings of his diary and began writing furiously.

‘ _God, why? Just, why? Why can’t we be nice? Why is high school such shit? Why is everyone in highschool so awful? Somebody help us! Somebody_ fix _us! Send me a sign that something will change!_ ’

The cafeteria doors slammed open. Everyone turned their heads towards the doors as the cheerleading squad raised their lunch trays above their heads like a gate. And through that gate came the most popular boys at Westerborough High.

The Hunters.

First came Hunter McNamara, quarterback. His mom is _loaded_ \- she sells engagement rings.

Then Hunter Duke. He runs the yearbook. He has no discernible personality, so his dad pays for him to keep his position on the basketball team.

And lastly, Hunter Chandler. The Almighty. He is a mythic dick.

‘ _They’re solid Teflon,_ ’ Vincent writes as he watches the traffic light colored posse make their way to their lunch table. ‘ _They’re never bothered, never_ harassed _. God. I’d give anything to be like that._ ’

**\---**

_Meanwhile…_

Michele Mell rode up the nearest 7-11 in her red PT Cruiser. She hopped out, taking the aux out of her phone and hooking it up to her headphones instead. Regina Spektor’s ‘The Call’ could be heard faintly from her bright red headphones as she stepped into the corner store.

The first thing Michele did when she entered was wave to the cashier who was working at the stand today. He offered her a curt nod before subtly pointing her toward a shelf.

One which held their newest supply of sushi. Negimaki.

Michele’s face brightened. “Thank you!” she called out to the man. He nodded again, before turning to his phone.

She slipped her phone into the pocket of her red hoodie before approaching the shelf. She grabbed a sushi tray and turned to place it on the counter. The cashier looked up from his phone as she did.

“Is this all?” he asked.

Michele shook her head. “Nope. One medium slushie cup, please.” The cashier handed her the cup. She turned to the slushie machine near the counter. Michele put the cup under the cherry nozzle and pulled the tab. Cold red slush swirled into the cup.

_Revvv…_

Michele looked up as a sleek black motorcycle rolled up to the bike rest. The driver kicked the kickstand down before making her way to the door. Once she was inside, she took off her helmet.

Both Michele and the cashier stared in shock.

This girl was beautiful! After she took her dark teal biker helmet off, she shook the sweat off of her face, making her long dark fringe fly out of her face, revealing her perfect winged eyeliner and thin layer of teal eye shadow.

Were those sparkles real, or was it just Michele?

A cold sensation on her hand shocked her out of her thoughts. She turned to see the cup overflowing with cherry slush. She quickly turned off the tab and grabbed a lid and straw to put over her cup. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the girl make her way to the counter and hold out her hand.

“One medium cup, please,” she said in a moderately thick Brooklyn accent. The cashier, still somewhat starstruck by her appearance, did just as she asked. Cup in hand, she made her way over to the machine, completely oblivious of Michele’s staring. This allowed her to take in the rest of the girl’s appearance.

She was wearing a long, black trenchcoat that stopped just above her ankles, and underneath that, a red flannel and black shirt. She had on jeans and black boots that came up to her calves. There was a thin layer of black lipstick on her full lips, so much so that it looked distinctly gray. Her fingernails were also black, but you could actually see the color.

She finished making her slushie - blue raspberry - and turned around to lean against the machine. She took a quick sip from the cup, and winced at the brain freeze. Michele winced too, knowing the feeling. The girl’s dark gray eyes widened and she looked over at Michele for the first time. For a second, Michele saw her eyes sparkle with some hidden emotion, but as soon as she acknowledged it, it vanished.

“Hey.” Michele decided to make the first move.

The girl smirked and she lowered her cup. “Greetings and salutations,” she said smoothly, placing the cup on the machine.

Michele thrust her hand at the mysterious girl, who looked it in confusion. “Um, Michele Mell,” she stammered.

The girl looked from her hand to her then back to her hand. She shook it slowly. “Nice to meet you, Michele.”

Michele smiled at her before frowning in confusion. “I’ve never seen you around here before,” she said pensively. “Are you new?” The girl looked surprised for a second, before smirking and nodding.

“I’ve been almost everywhere, ya know,” she told her, her smirk turning into a strained smile. “And everywhere’s always the same: shitty teenagers, ignorant adults, and” she sighed contently “7-11s.” She grabbed her cup and stirred the blue slush with her straw. “7-11 slushies are the only good constant in my life. When I need to get away from it all, I just mix up a blue raspberry and freeze my brain.” As if to demonstrate, she brought the straw to her lips and took a quick slurp, wincing at the headache. She turned back to Michele with a painful smile. “Like that.”

Michele nodded. “I totally get it, girl,” she said. “I do the same thing with weed, honestly. I’m not like, addicted or anything, though,” she added, seeing the girl’s nose scrunch up in disgust. “I only do it every once in awhile.”

The girl gave her a withering glance before walking over to the counter. “Hey, is this your stuff?” she asked, pointing to the negimaki. At Michele’s nod, she dug in the pocket of her trenchcoat and pulled out a black leather wallet.

“Hey, look, you don’t have to do that.” Michele’s words fell on deaf ears as the girl paid for their slushies and Michele’s sushi. She handed it to Michele, who took it hesitantly.

“Well, ‘what are friends for’, ya know?” the girl said, smiling genuinely for the first time during their meeting.

Michele smiled back. “Well, friend, I didn’t happen to catch your name,” she said jokingly.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t throw it,” the girl said, smirking. The two laughed as they walked out of the corner store. The girl leaned on her jet black Harley while Michele opened the door to her bright red PT Cruiser, setting her purchase in the passenger seat.

“Jamie Dean. JD for short.”

Michele turned back to the girl, JD, who was staring at her boots. “JD?”

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out,” she laughed bitterly. She then looked up, and Michele caught a glimpse of vulnerability in her dark gray eyes before it disappeared. “You know, I’ve never had a friend before.”

Michele gave JD a kind smile. “Well, I guess that makes me your first.” JD hesitantly returned the smile before climbing onto her motorcycle. Michele climbed into the driver’s seat, and was about to close the car door when she heard JD’s muffled voice call her name.

“Yeah?” she asked, turning to her new friend, who now had her helmet on. She flipped the visor up before continuing.

“I really like your lesbian patch,” she pointed to the left arm of Michele’s hoodie, which had the aforementioned patch ironed on it. “I think it’s cool that you embrace your pride like that.” With that said, she flicked her visor down and drove out of the parking lot. Michele watched her go before closing the door and doing the same. She couldn’t wait to tell Jerilyn about her new friend.

**\---**

_Earlier that morning…_

“Come oooon, load already.” Jerilyn Heere sat at her desk, staring her laptop screen, which displayed a random pornsite. She always got up early to do this, it was practically part of her routine by now.

Unfortunately, it seemed her Internet was failing today. Maybe she should…

_Annkh annkh annkh!_

…and there was her alarm. She groaned. _Man, if I had known my Internet was gonna fail, I wouldn’t have tried,_ she thought as she rose sluggishly from her desk chair. Jerilyn grabbed a towel from the hall closet before peeling off her nightclothes and taking a quick shower. She put on a striped shirt and some blue jeans, her signature blue jacket completing the look. She opened the door and stepped out into the hall…

…only to be greeted by her mother wearing a business shirt and underwear. Two things that should go together ever.

“Mom! God!” she yelled, throwing her arm over her eyes.

“What? We’re all women in this house,” Ms. Heere said. Jerilyn rolled her eyes as she blindly searched for her backpack. Her hand brushed over an arm loop, and she swung the bag over her shoulder.

“Whatever, Mom, just… have clothes on when I get home, ok?” she asked futily.

“...is Michele dropping you off today?”

Jerilyn sighed. “She always does, Mom,” she said, walking out the door and towards the bus stop. On her way over, she debated just walking to school.

 _Well, I could, but it’s a distance away, and walking for long periods of time make me sweaty. Which will make my pits reek and my underwear sticky._ Besides, she’d probably be late to her class, and she didn’t want that.

The clunky, yellow bus rolled to a stop, and the doors swung open. Jerilyn pulled her bag up against her back before climbing the stairs and finding a seat.

A seat which happened to be right behind the biggest gossipers in the junior class: Cole Valentine, Johnny Rolan, and Brooke Lohst. They were practically the junior Hunters, just more talkative.

“...so Johnny Rolan said Matthew told Jackie, ‘I’ll only let you fuck me if you beat me at pool,’” Cole was saying, rather loudly in fact. “And then he lost at pool. Deliberately.”

“That is so awesome,” Brooke gushed.

“Brooke!” Cole shouted.

“I-I mean, slutty,” he corrected quickly.

“And then, Matthew was all like-”

“I’m telling the story, Jonathan!” Cole cut Johnny off loudly. Then he tensed and looked behind him at Jerilyn, who was sitting there with her jaw dropped, which shut with an audible click as the other two boys turned to look at her too.

“Oh my God, she’s , like, totally getting wet from that.” Cole made a disgusted sound, before turning back around. Brooke and Johnny both gave her a disgusted look before also turning around. Jerilyn’s face went red and she stared at her black converse shoes.

The bus ride was actually fairly short, and everyone piled out of it at top speed. Jerilyn walked into the school building, and it wasn’t a full minute before someone bumped into her. Too bad that someone had to be a 5”3 ball of rage.

“Yo, don’t touch me, tall ass!” screamed Richelle Goranski, or Rikki for short.

“S-Sorry, I was just trying to get to-” Jerilyn was cut off by Rikki grabbing one of the straps on her backpack and pulling it - and her - down to her eye level. “Hey, what are you-”

“Shut up and stand still!” Jerilyn’s mouth snapped shut and she tried to stay as still as she could, even as she heard the sound of a Sharpie being uncapped. It wasn’t long before she was being pushed back up. She reached behind her, but stopped when Rikki grabbed her wrist before walking in front of her with a scowl.

“Wash that off and you’re fucking _dead_!” She shouted, before looking behind her and smiling. “Jackie D!”

Rikki let go of Jerilyn to run over to Jacklynn Dillinger, tackling her in a hug. “So,” she said, pulling away, “what’s the story with Matthew?”

“Well, I won’t go into detail,” Jackie began. “But let’s just say all those pool lessons really paid off.” The two giggled before heading off to class.

Jerilyn was doing the same when she caught of a poster on the wall. Walking closer to it, she realized that it wasn’t a poster, but a sign-up sheet for the after-school play. Maybe she’d join.

 _Ha, yeah right._ She had no experience in acting. There was no way she was going to make a fool of herself onstage in front of her peers. She did that enough already.

Jerilyn took a left and ending up bumping into someone again, except this someone was…

Christian Canigula, the cutest boy in the junior class…

“Did you say something?” Jerilyn blinked. Christian was looking at her in confusion. That’s when she realized she had been talking out loud, or at least muttering and staring.

 _Okay, Heere. Be smooth and fix the situation._ Just as she was about to do so, Christian began speaking again. “Hey, um, it says ‘girlf’ on your backpack,” he said, pointing to his own backpack. Jerilyn’s eyes widened and her mouth fell open.

_Hey, it’s ok. You can still fix this. Just be cool._

“I…Uh…Eh!” she pushed past Christian and ran to her first class.

_Wow, real smooth Jeri. Whatever, just don’t dwell on it too much._

She did dwell on it, though. All the way to lunch. She dwelled on the fact that she’d probably die a virgin, her only date being her MacBook Pro hard drive. God, she didn’t even really want to be cool or popular. She just wanted to survive.

The faint, familiar sound of reggae music pulled Jerilyn out of her thoughts. She looked behind her to see a familiar red hoodie.

“Michele!” Jerilyn called out to her best friend, Michele, who turned around and brightened instantly upon seeing her.

“Jerilyn, my buddy!” She tackled the taller girl in a quick hug. “How’s it hanging?”

“Pretty good,” Jerilyn lied. Michele didn’t need to how bad her day was going, especially when she looked so happy. “Good, good,” the Latino girl said, bobbing her head. “Anyways, lunch was banging for me. I got my negimaki and my slushie, and I ended up getting a lot more slushie than I usually get ‘cause I got distracted by this really nice and beautiful girl named JD, who’s totally my friend now, by the way.” Jerilyn noticed that Michele was still bobbing her head, and shook hers fondly.

“You’re listening to Bob Marley again, aren’t you?” “I’m almost always listenin’ to Marley, Jeri, but that’s only ‘cause his grooves are hella gnarly. Now hold on, ‘cause it’s almost at the end.” The two girls waited for a moment before Michele’s head bobbing slowed to a stop. “Alright, now that that’s done, tell me, Jeri, how was class? You look like ass, what’s wrong?”

God, Michele could always read her like a book.

“Well, I wrote Christian a letter telling him how I feel,” Jerilyn began cheerfully.

“Ooh, progress!”

“Yeah, then I tore it up and flushed it,” she finished in the same chipper tone. “It’s still progress,” she added at Michele’s groan of disapproval.

“Hey, it’s all good,” the hoodie clad girl said with a small smile.

Jerilyn nodded, before she remembered something. “Oh, hey. Do you know what ‘girlf’ means?” she asked, taking of her backpack to show her friend the aforementioned word.

Michele’s smile quickly turned into an ‘o’ of surprise before she, too, took off her backpack, showing that Rikki had wrote ‘riends’ on hers. The two looked at each other, then back down to their bags.

“Oh…” The two looked away for a moment, before pulling their backpacks and heading to their next class.

“Hey,” Jerilyn glanced over at Michele, who had an easygoing smile on her face, “I saw on Discovery that humanity has stopped evolving!”

“Um, that’s… good?” Jerilyn was confused.

Michele nodded. “Look, evolution’s ‘Survival of the Fittest’, right?” At Jerilyn’s nod, she continued. “Well, now, because of technology, you don’t have to be strong to survive! Which means, there’s never been a better time in history to be a loser!” Michele laughed triumphantly. “So own it! Why try to be cool when you could be-”

“Gay!”

Rikki’s shout could’ve been heard throughout the entire building. Laughter rang out around them, so Jerilyn thought they were laughing at her and Michele at first. Then she realized that everyone was laughing at Christian, who was signing his name on the play sign-up sheet.

The laughing and jeering didn’t even seem to affect him. Once he was done writing, he picked up his bag and walked down the hall to his next class. Jerilyn stared as he walked out of sight before turning to Michele.

“I’m gonna go sign up.” Michele said nothing, just handed her a blue gel pen. Jerilyn accepted it, took a deep breath, and walked up to sign-up sheet. She quickly wrote her name before walking back to where Michele stood waiting for her. Once she was safely by her best friend’s side, she let go of the breath.

“I’m so proud of you, Jeri!” she exclaimed, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

“Yeah, well, don’t expect anything like that again soon,” Jerilyn replied, out of breath. The two continued their walk in silence before…

“Shit!”

“What?!”

“I didn’t get JD’s number!”

**\---**

_Earlier, at the Murphys’..._

Connie Murphy woke to the sun shining directly on her face. She was confused at first, before she remembered:

_Oh yeah, I came out here to get high at three o’clock._

Connie climbed down as carefully as she could, - she was still hazy - and crawled through her window onto her bed just as her father called both her and her brother down for breakfast.

She sighed. “Another day, another plate of disgusting soy pancakes,” she grumbled, taking her weed stash out of the pocket of her hoodie and hiding before heading downstairs. Once she was at the dining table, she pulled out her chair loudly before plopping down lazily and laying her head on her arms.

Her father, Cyrus Murphy, sighed. “It’s your senior year, Connie. You are not missing the first day,” he said in a pleading tone, probably hoping his daughter would lift her head up and agree with a smile.

Connie was quick to disappoint.

“I already said I’d go tomorrow,” she mumbled into the crook of her arm, closing her eyes so she wouldn’t see the disappointed look in her father’s.

“Cyrus, she’s obviously not listening,” her mother, Laura Murphy, said, looking up from her tablet. “She’s probably high.”

“She’s definitely high,” her younger brother, Zakiy Murphy, replied. God, he was such a fucking kiss up.

“Fuck you!” Connie shouted, giving the recently-sixteen-year-old the finger.

“Fuck _you_!”

“Stop it, both of you!” Cyrus yelled over the both of them, obviously trying to play the dad role this morning. “Besides, Connie is not high, right?”

He turned to Connie with an expression so hopeful, she almost wanted to say yes. Instead, she rolled her eyes and lowered her head back onto her arms.

“I don’t want you going to school high, Connie,” Cyrus said sternly. Unable to take much more of this, Connie stood up from the table.

“Perfect, so then I won’t go. Thanks, Dad!” she said, before turning and stumbling up the stairs and to her room, falling face first onto royal purple comforters, ignoring her mom’s grumbled, “Interstate’s already jammed.” and Zakiy’s yell of, “Connie finished the milk!”

Connie must’ve laid there for most of breakfast, since the next thing she heard from downstairs was Laura’s “I’d better head out.” and then the front door slamming shut. She debated laying there for the rest of the day until she heard Zakiy’s voice call up the stairs.

“If Connie’s not ready, I’m leaving without her!” Connie rolled her eyes before grabbing her messenger bag and slamming her bedroom door shut behind her.

**\---**

_At the Hansens’..._

“Dear Evelyn Hansen, this is gonna be a good day and here’s why…”

Evelyn Hansen tapped the keys on her laptop lightly, wondering what lie she could type up that would get her therapist off of her back this week. She had been postponing these letters for too long. She had to turn in something, or else Dr. Sherman would get mad and wouldn't want to work with her anymore.

Evelyn wouldn't blame her if she did, though. She was that much of a failure.

Shaking her head to get rid of her intruding thoughts, Evelyn turned back to her screen. “Dear Evelyn Hansen, this is gonna be a good day and here’s why…”

“Knock knock.”

Evelyn shrieked. Slamming her computer screen down loudly, she turned to see her dad, Henri Hansen, standing there with a somewhat pained expression.

_One that you caused._

“Oh. He-Hey, Dad,” she stuttered meekly, turning back to her screen.

“Hey, Evy,” her dad said softly. “You ok? I didn’t scare you too much, did I?”

“N-No, I’m o-I’m okay.” The way that Evelyn was hunched over her closed laptop was evidence to both father and daughter that she was, in fact, not okay. Thankfully, her father did not press her on this, and instead just nodded.

“Have you been writing those letters to yourself?” Henri asked as a segue. “You know, ‘Dear Evelyn Hansen, this is gonna be a good day and here’s why…’” He trailed off as an indication.

“W-Well, I start-I started one,” Evelyn stuttered, gesturing to her laptop halfheartedly.

Henri sighed. “Those letters are important, honey,” he told her, placing his hands on her shoulders. Evelyn, thankfully, didn’t flinch this time. “They’re gonna help you build your confidence.”

“I guess…” she agreed sadly.

Henri shook his head. “Come on, Evy,” he said pleadingly, “can we try to have an optimistic outlook, please?”

Evelyn said nothing, instead opting to stare at the cast covering her left arm. Henri took note of this and brightened.

“Hey, I know!” Evelyn looked up at him, confused. “You can go around today and ask the other kids to sign your cast.” He tapped it softly. “How ‘bout that?”

 _Terrible._ “Perfect.”

“I’m proud of you already.” Henri ruffled Evelyn’s honey blonde hair.

“Oh, good…” She grabbed a blue ponytail holder off of her nightstand before heading into the bathroom for a quick shower. She came downstairs twenty minutes later, fully dressed in a blue striped shirt and a long khaki skirt that reached her ankles, to find a note from her dad on the counter.

‘ _I had to head to work early, but I still wanted to wish you good luck on your first day of senior year! Please try to be more outgoing, I know you can do it! There’s twenty dollars on the counter for lunch or dinner, please try to eat something today. I love you!_ ’

Evelyn regarded the note with anger. Why couldn’t he have said all this before he left?

_What the fuck are you complaining about? Your dad took time out of his schedule to find paper and a pen to write this damn note, and you’re shaming him for it like a selfish brat._

Evelyn took a shaky breath before leaving her house and walking to the bus stop.

The bus ride was fairly uneventful. When they arrived, Evelyn got off and slowly walked into the building, where she was greeted by Alex Beck’s wide smile.

“Hey Evelyn, how was your summer?” he asked, before continuing. “Mine was productive, I did three internships and ninety hours of community service. I know, wow.” Evelyn nodded, not knowing what to say, so she pulled out the Sharpie she grabbed before leaving the house.

“Hey, um, I was- I was w-wondering if you- if you wanted to…” she stammered, gesturing to her cast with the pen.

Alex gasped. “Oh my God, what happened to your arm?!” he shouted, making Evelyn falter. “Oh, um, I fell? Out of a tree?” It came out as a question, but neither teen seemed to acknowledge it. “Really? My grandfather broke his hip climbing into the bathtub in July,” he said loudly. “That was the beginning of the end, the doctor said, because then, he died.” Evelyn’s eyes widened, and she lowered the Sharpie as Alex fixed her with an intense stare. Then he smiled again.

“Happy first day!” he said before walking to his next class. Evelyn nodded, shoving the Sharpie back into her pocket.

“Is it weird to be the first person in history to break their arm while fingering themselves too hard?”

Evelyn’s head snapped up and she met Janet Kleinman's smirking face. She was pointing to her cast and Evelyn quailed instantly.

“No! N-No, that’s not-that’s not what I was do-doing, Janet!” Her cries fell on deaf ears.

“Paint me the picture,” Janet continued. “You’re in your bedroom, you’ve got Zakiy Murphy’s Instagram up on your weird, off brand cellphone-”

“That’s not-That’s not what happened, obviously,” Evelyn said. Janet raised an eyebrow. “I-I was climbing a tree, and, um, I fell.”

Janet laughed. “You _fell_?” she asked incredulously, and at Evelyn’s hesitant nod, she scoffed. “What are you, like, an acorn?”

Evelyn frowned. “Well, um, I-I don’t know if you knew this, but, I was an apprentice park ranger, you know? At Ellison Park? You know, I’m sort of a, tree expert, nottobrag.” Janet nodded, clearly amused. “So, then, I tried to climb this forty foot oak tree-”

“And you fell?” Janet cut her off, smirk widening. Evelyn nodded. “See, but-it’s a funny story, actually, because there was-there was a solid ten minutes where I just laid there, waiting for someone to come get me, any second now-I was saying to myself, I was like, ‘someone’s coming, any second now’, you know?”

“Did they?”

“No, no, you see, that’s-that’s the funny part, you know?”

“Jesus Christ,” Janet laughed. Evelyn nodded.

“Well, how was your summer?” she asked, and Janet seemed to brighten instantly as she began telling Evelyn all about her time at her summer camp.

“Hey,” Evelyn called as Janet started walking away. “Do you, uh, do you wanna sign my cast?”

The shorter girl scoffed. “Why’re you asking me?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, I, uh… because we’re friends?” she asked hopefully, even though she knew the answer she was bound to get.

“We’re _family_ friends, Evelyn. Totally different thing.” There it was. Janet turned to walk away, and then she turned back. “Hey, uh, tell your dad to tell my dad that I was nice to you so he’ll pay my car insurance, ‘kay?”

Evelyn nodded. “‘Kay.” She walked down the hall before she heard Janet speak up again.

“Oh, hey Connie. Loving the new ‘do. Very school shooter chic.”

Evelyn turned to see Connie Murphy regarding her and Janet with a blank expression. The left side of her head was shaved, but seemed to be growing back slowly. She winced at the comment, but other than that, said nor did anything to indicate that she even heard Janet’s biting words.

“Um, hello? It was just a joke, I was _joking_ ,” she said sarcastically, though she seemed to lean away from the taller girl.

“Oh, no, it was funny,” Connie said, blankly. “I’m laughing, can’t you tell?” She wasn’t. “Am I not laughing hard enough for you?” She asked, walking up to Janet and Evelyn but stopping a few feet away.

Janet chuckled nervously. “God, you’re such a freak,” she said, before walking down the hall. She gave Evelyn a knowing look when she passed, and kicked up dust as she walked.

This made Evelyn cough. She wished it hadn’t.

“What the fuck are you laughing at?” Evelyn looked up to see Connie looking at her in confusion and anger.

“...what?”

“Stop _fucking_ laughing!” She stomped towards Evelyn angrily.

“Wh-What? But I’m not-”

“You think I’m a freak?!” Closer.

“What? No-”

“I’m not the freak!” Even closer.

“But-but I didn’t-”

“You’re the fucking freak!”

Connie pushed her down hard.

For a while, she lay there, thinking. Why did she cough? Why couldn’t she have moved? Why didn’t she try to explain herself better?

_Why did I fall?_

Finally after what must’ve been ten minutes, someone walked up to her and stuck their hand in her face. “Here,” they said. Evelyn, not wanting to be rude, grabbed it and allowed the person to pull her up.

To her surprise, it was Zakiy Murphy.

“Hey, I, um, saw my sister push you. Are you okay?” Sister? Who was he talking about?

Connie Murphy, genius. Who else pushed you just now?

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, I’m fine,” she said, pulling her hand back and wiping it on her skirt. Were her hands sweaty just then? They probably were.

“God, she’s such a bitch,” he said, though it sounded like he was saying this more to himself than out loud. “Look, if she ever pulls any bullshit like this again, don’t be afraid to tell me, okay?” Evelyn nodded, blushing. Zakiy returned the nod before walking off to his class. Evelyn did the same.

Class was very uneventful, seeing how it was the first day, and it was soon lunchtime. Evelyn didn’t go to lunch, instead heading to the computer lab to complete her letter.

‘ _Dear Evelyn Hansen,_

        _Turns out this wasn’t an amazing day after all. This isn’t going to be an amazing week or an amazing year, because why would it be? I know, because there’s Zakiy, and all my hope is pinned on Zakiy, who I don’t even know, and doesn’t know me. Maybe if I could just talk to him. Maybe nothing would be different at all. I wish everything was different. I wish I was part of something. I wish that anything I said mattered to anyone. I mean face it, would anyone notice if I just disappeared tomorrow?_

_Sincerely,_

_Your most best, and dearest friend_

_Me_ ’

Evelyn looked over the letter once, twice, before finally clicking the print icon and stepping back from the computer. She did it, it was done. She finally completed a therapy letter.

But she’d be damned if she let anyone read it.

“Hey.”

Evelyn turned around so fast, she almost gave herself whiplash. Connie was standing there, looking somewhat sheepish.

“Hey,” Evelyn replied softly, fiddling with a loose string on her cast.

“Hey, um, I came to apologize for pushing you earlier, that was kinda bitchy of me,” she said softly.

“N-No, it’s okay.”

Connie nodded, then looked up at her. “How’d you break your arm?”

Evelyn jumped. “Oh, um, I fell out of a tree.”

“Fell out of a tree?” Evelyn nodded. “Well, that’s just the saddest fucking thing I’ve ever heard, oh my God.” Connie laughed blankly and Evelyn joined in.

“Yeah, I-I know.”

“Hey, no one’s signed your cast.” The taller girl pointed to it and Evelyn shook her head.

“No, I know,” she told her.

“Well, I’ll sign it.”

“Oh, no, you don’t-you don’t have to-”

“You got a Sharpie?” Seeing as her protests were falling on deaf ears, Evelyn nodded and dug the pen out of her pocket. Connie took it and grabbed her arm - hard.

“Ow…” she moaned softly.

“Oh…” The two locked eyes for a moment, and Evelyn noticed that her eyes were hazy and bloodshot.

_Well, she is called the school stoner for a reason._

Connie let go of Evelyn’s arm after a minute. Evelyn looked down at her cast, which displayed the girl’s name in big, black, blocky letters against stark white.

“Um, thanks?”

“It’s good. Now we can both pretend we have friends.” Evelyn and Connie stood in silence for a while. The former looked down at her cast, displaying the latter’s name. She ran her hand over it. Friends. That sounded nice, even if it was pretend.

“Hey, is this yours?”

Evelyn looked up to see Connie holding a paper in her hands. Her paper.

_Oh, God._

“...what?”

“‘Dear Evelyn Hansen’, that’s you, right?” Connie gestured to her with the paper, and she nodded. Evelyn moved to take it, but then Connie moved it out of her reach. She scanned it quickly and her eyes narrowed.

“‘Because there’s Zakiy? My hope is pinned on Zakiy who I don’t even know?’” She looked up at Evelyn, angry. “Did you write this about my brother?”

“No, well, yes, but, you see-”

“You wrote this because you saw me in here, didn’t you?”

“What, no, why would I-”

“So that you could tell everybody in school that crazy Connie Murphy freaked out about some creepy ass letter about her brother, right? Right?!”

“What? No, no, I would never-”

“Yeah? Well, fuck you, Hansen!” Connie crumpled the letter up, stuffed in the pocket of her hoodie, and ran out of the computer lab.

Evelyn stood there in shock for a minute. Then, something happened, a thing that Evelyn could not explain in believable sentences. All she could tell you was that maybe, just maybe, a force that knew more about the future than she did compelled her to do what she did that day.

“C-Connie, wait!”


	2. You're Gonna Be Popular

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evelyn gets a (pretend) friend, Vincent joins the Hunters, and Jerilyn talks to Christian.

**Ch. 2 - You’re Gonna Be Popular**

**\---**

Evelyn Hansen ran through the halls, narrowly avoiding running into people as she tried to keep up with Connie Murphy. She had to find her. She had to apologize, to explain.

 

She couldn’t lose her new(pretend) friend.

 

Out of the corner of her eye, Evelyn saw black sneakers walk out the front door. Was Connie skipping? Wasn’t that illegal or something?

 

Regardless, Evelyn still had to explain herself.

 

“Connie!” she yelled, bolting outside. She spotted the taller girl instantly; she was leaning against a blue truck, her back to Evelyn. _Oh, thank God,_ Evelyn thought as she cautiously approached Connie.

 

“Um, C-Connie?” The girl flinched violently, and Evelyn paled. “Oh! Oh, my God, I-I’m so sorry, are-are you okay?!” She reached out to grab her arm, but froze when Connie flinched again.

 

“Don’t _fucking_ touch me!” she shrieked angrily, making Evelyn jump back.

 

“I-I’m sorry, I’m-I’m so sorry! I just wa-wanted to apologize, for what happened, in-in the lab…” Evelyn trailed off, before turning around. “I-I’m sorry, I’m rambling, this was-this was a mistake, I’m sorry for bothering you-”

 

“Hansen.”

 

Evelyn turned to see Connie staring at her curiously. Her letter was clenched in the pale teen’s hand. Evelyn wanted to reach out and take it, but didn’t for fear of making Connie upset again.

 

“Um, yes?”

 

Connie looked away from Evelyn. “I, um, read the rest of your letter,” she said, holding it up in her fist.

 

Evelyn paled. “Y-Yeah?”

 

Connie seemed to hesitate. “I…” She trailed off for a moment before shaking her head. “I’ve felt what you’re feeling. In this letter, I mean.”

 

Evelyn’s eyes widened. “Re-Really?” She’d never really had anyone to relate to. She hardly knew where she stood with Alex, she had a crush on Zakiy, and Janet… was Janet.

 

Connie nodded, looking away again. “Yeah, um, about wanting to disappear? And no one noticing?”

 

Evelyn stared at her. She had a question, but… How would Connie respond?

 

Evelyn took a deep breath, stepping closer to Connie hesitantly. Connie looked up slowly, and Evelyn swallowed.

 

“Um, are we-are we st-still pretend fr-friends?” she asked quietly. Connie’s confused face melted into shock. “I-I mean, w-we don’t have to-to be, I just, I’m sorry…”

 

“Hansen.” Connie’s voice was small, a confused edge accompanying it. “...You really want to be seen with me?”

 

Evelyn nodded, offering the taller girl a nervous smile. Connie stared at her weirdly, before giving her a crooked smile.

 

“Um, see you-see you tomorrow?”

 

“Uh, yeah. Yeah.”

 

The two girls shared another nod before Evelyn turned and made her way back into school. Behind her, she heard a car pull away. She guessed she really would be seeing her tomorrow.

 

It wasn’t until she was back in the building and seated in her class that she realized:

 

_Connie still has my letter._

**\---**

_Later that night…_

 

Connie charged into her room, wishing she had a door to slam. Laura had taken it off last year after her last attempt at her life and hadn’t put it back since.

 

Laura…

 

God, she hated that woman. The feeling seemed to be mutual.

 

Whenever they were within each other’s general vicinity, a fight was sure to ensue. And Laura was always the first to start shit.

 

Okay, well, that wasn’t completely true, because Connie always did something to set Laura off, which would then set Connie off, and then the whole thing would spiral out of control.

 

Today’s fight was especially awful, mainly because Connie skipped most of her first day at school, but also because Zakiy didn’t know how to close his big fucking mouth. He told Laura and Cyrus about her yelling at and pushing Evelyn Hansen, and that she had taken the car and left school before lunch.

 

“Probably to get high,” he said, and when Laura turned angry eyes on her, he gave her a smug look, one which _definitely_ didn’t hurt to see come from her own brother.

 

The fight was always the same. Laura would yell at her for going off and getting high, then Connie would yell back that she’d rather be lost and high than at home and sober, then Laura would retaliate by calling Connie a failure and a disgrace, to which Cyrus would step in trying to calm the two women down while Zakiy would retreat to his room like a fucking coward.

 

Connie would later do the same, but only after Cyrus had managed to calm down and distract Laura.

 

And here she was now, standing in the bathroom, a bottle of sleeping pills she had stolen from her mother. She’d been planning this since last week, her long-awaited departure from this god forsaken planet. She popped off the cap, shook out at least twenty pills, raised them up to her mouth-

 

Out of the corner of her eye, Conne saw a sliver of white. It was Hansen’s weird letter, the one she had addressed to herself. The one that had expressed most of the feelings she felt on a daily basis. Maybe…

 

She shook her head. She raised the pills to her mouth, tilted her hand…

 

Connie brought her hand down with a sigh. Not tonight. Maybe another time. Maybe even tomorrow, but…

 

_Not tonight._

**\---**

_The next day…_

 

Vincent opens a stall and slips in. Another day, another terrible lunch. He sighed, relieving himself quickly and fixing his belt. He was about to exit the stall when the door to the bathroom slammed open. The sound of retching filled the bathroom.

 

“Ugh, grow up, Hunter. Bulimia is _so_ ‘09.”

 

“Yeah, maybe you should see a doctor, Hunter.”

 

The retching stopped. “Yeah, Hunter. Maybe I should.”

 

It was the Hunters. Vincent was in the bathroom with the most popular boys in school. _The Hunters_.

 

Honestly, it was pretty exciting. And scary.

 

The door opened again. A man sighed.

 

“Ah, Hunter and Hunter…” the retching resumed, expressing Vincent’s feelings about the man. “...and Hunter.”

 

It was Mr. Fleming, the school’s guidance counselor. Too bad he couldn’t give good guidance.

 

“I don’t know if you heard over the vomiting, but the bell just rang,” he said.

 

“We heard, but Hunter wasn’t feeling well,” Chandler retorted, sounding annoyed. “We were helping him.”

 

“That doesn’t excuse the fact that you’re late for class,” Mr. Fleming told the ginger. “An hour detention.”

 

It was then that Vincent had a really crazy idea. He scribbled on his paper frantically, before shooting out of the stall and in between the Hunters and Mr. Fleming.

 

“Um, actually, Mr. Fleming, the four of us are out on a hall pass,” he lied, shoving the note in the older man’s face. “Yearbook committee.”

 

Mr. Fleming scanned the note, before scoffing and handing the note to Chandler.

 

“Whatever. Get to your class.” He left. The Hunters and Vincent watched him go, then Chandler turned to Vincent.

 

“This is excellent forgery.” The ginger sized him up, his posse doing the same. “Who _are_ you?”

 

“Um, Vincent. Sawyer. I crave a boon.”

 

Chandler scoffed. “What boon?” he asked, raising an inquisitive eyebrow.

 

Vincent sighed. “Look, just, let me sit at your table for one day,” he pleaded. “If only so people will leave me alone.” The boys just laughed, so Vincent continued quickly. “I also do report cards, permission slips, and absence notes.”

 

“What about prescriptions?” Duke asked.

 

“Shut _up_ , Hunter,” Chandler commanded, eyes flashing.

 

“Sorry, Hunter.” The Asian American boy shied back meekly.

 

The ginger rolled his eyes and turned back to Vincent. “You know,” he said, cupping Vincent’s chin and turning it from side to side roughly, “for a greasy little nobody, you have a nice bone structure.”

 

Vincent’s cheeks dusted pink. Hunter Chandler thought he had a nice bone structure? Really?

 

“Yeah, and a symmetrical face.” Chandler let go of his chin, and McNamara took his spot, sliding his hand down the middle of Vincent’s face. “If I took a meat cleaver down the center of your skull, I’d have matching halves.” He fixed Vincent with a serious stare. “That’s very important.”

 

“Though, you could stand to lose a few pounds-”

 

Duke cut himself off at Chandler’s glare, which he softened before turning back to Vincent.

 

“You know, I think I could work with this,” the ginger mused, circling the brunette like a jungle cat. “Some hair gel, maybe a jacket, and we’re on our way.” He nodded. “Yeah… I could work with this…” Chandler turned to the other Hunters and snapped his fingers. “Hunter, hand over your brush, we’re going to make this boy beautiful.”

 

He turned back to Vincent, whose face was flushed.

 

“Okay?”

 

“O-Okay!”

**\---**

_After school…_

 

Jerilyn and Michele approached the room where play practice was taking place, stopping just outside the door. Jerilyn looked to Michele, who looked between her and the door as if to say “Well…” Jerilyn nodded and reached for the doorknob…

 

Before snatching her hand away as if it had burned her.

 

“Nope,” she said.

 

“Nope?” Michele echoed.

 

“Nope,” Jerilyn confirmed. She took a few steps back. “Look,” she said, focusing all her attention on her shoes, “I guess evolution’s not for everyone, ‘Chele.”

 

Michele sighed, smiling a bit at the nickname. “Look, Jeri, you don’t have to do this,” she said, leaning over so that she could somewhat see Jerilyn’s face. “Of course, I’ll mock you forever you if you don’t.”

 

Michele straightened, and, after a while and a few deep breaths, Jerilyn did too.

 

“Alright… Alright, I can do this…” she whispered, opening the door and taking a few tentative steps inside.

 

“Yeah, you got this, Jeriberry!”

 

“Michele!”

 

Jerilyn quickly closed the door behind her, muffling the giggles of her silly best friend. Taking a few more deep breaths, she scanned the area…

 

…and almost had a heart attack when she saw Christian Canigula at least ten feet away.

 

The small Asian-American boy was sitting with his back to her, and Jerilyn admired that for a moment before she regained her senses.

 

“Yo!” she said loudly. Christian jumped and turned around, smiling when he saw her.

 

“Yo,” he replied, a bit softer. If he noticed that Jerilyn had blushed when he smiled at her, he didn’t say anything.

 

Jerilyn looked around again before asking, “Is this where you meet for play practice?”

 

She almost smacked herself. Of course this is where they met for play practice. Why else be Christian be here-

 

“No. This is where you meet for swim practice.”

 

Jerilyn’s anxiety must’ve shown on her face because Christian hastily added, “I’m joking.” to which she responded with an awkward nod.

 

“I-I’m Jerilyn! I, I mean…” she trailed off. God, it was bad enough she couldn’t form a coherent sentence in regular circumstances. Now it was happening in front of her crush…

 

“Are you okay?”

 

“Hnnh?” Jerilyn looked up - _when did I look down?_ \- to see Christian staring at her, concern swimming in his brown eyes.

 

“You seem nervous,” he said, leaning closer. Jerilyn leaned back.

 

“Oh, no, I always,” she sighed, “sweat this much.”

 

Christian smiled. “I get it. You’re a virgin.” At Jerilyn’s shocked and confused expression, he added, “This is your first play rehearsal!”

 

That’s when Jerilyn realized. “You, you think I’m nervous about play rehearsal!”

 

“Yeah! Why else would you be shaking? A lot?”

 

She was _shaking_? Damn.

 

“Ha, yep. Totally freaked,” she agreed, laughing nervously.

 

“Aw, it’s okay. Oh, I’m a little jealous actually.” At Jerilyn’s inquiring gaze, he continued, “You never forget your first. Play rehearsal. Coming here is the highlight…”

 

He trailed off, staring off to the side. Jerilyn took a hesitant step towards him.

 

“Of-Of your day?”

 

“Yeah right.” He paused, then turned to her. “Of my _life_!”

 

Christian patted the spot next to him, and Jerilyn, after a moment’s hesitation, sat next to him. He moved closer to her, and Jerilyn had to fight the urge to jump off of the bench and run out of the room.

 

“I just, I love play rehearsal, you know?” Christian said, turning to her. “It’s the best, and it’s super fun, too! I actually get depressed as soon as it’s done.” Jerilyn must’ve looked worried because he quickly added, “But not depressed as in, like, ‘kill yourself’ depressed! I’m _so_ not into self harm, you can even check my arm.” He laughed at the unintentional pun. “I only used it to emphasize the fact that I’m passionate about this. I’m passionate about a lot of things, really. Gun control, spring, if I’m living up to all of my expectations. Though, that’s kind of hard since I have a bit of ADD…”

 

He trailed off again with a confused expression.

 

“Where was I?” Jerilyn opened her mouth to answer, but he cut her off with a distracted laugh. “Oh, yeah, play rehearsal.

 

“I love play rehearsal. It’s so… predictable, you know. It doesn’t expect you to know everything. It doesn’t judge or laugh when you get an answer wrong. It’s so… constant. Life just doesn’t work out in the way it works out in a play. The only time I get to feel like I matter is when I’m playing on the stage as Romeo or Seymour Krelborn, which was honestly one of my best roles, did you see that?”

 

It took Jerilyn a moment to realize that he was actually asking, and she nodded quickly. “I actually got a chance to tap into my more sensitive side, you know? It made me realize that there really aren’t a lot of sensitive, caring roles for boys, particularly in high school theater, do you find that weird? Because I find that super weird.”

 

Jerilyn nodded. Now that she thought about it, that was pretty weird.

 

“You know, it’s kind of impossible to narrow down the many reasons why I love play rehearsal so much. I actually happiness cry whenever it starts. It just so, universal, you know? Getting to try out for so many different parts.

 

“You know, most people only do one thing their entire life - _just one_ \- and I just, _ugh_ , I don’t understand! I have so many interests I want to pursue, and- hey, why am I telling any of this to you, anyway?”

 

Christian looked and sounded genuinely confused, and Jerilyn actually felt kinda bad that she didn’t have an answer to give him. Fortunately, he seemed to find his own.

 

“I guess a part of me just, _wants_ to, you know?” He paused, then grinned. “There’s also a part of me that wants to do this.”

 

Before Jerilyn could ask what he meant by ‘this’, Christian made weird, sort of goblin freak-out noise, complete with weird facial expressions. He then turned back to Jerilyn with a grin, the latter looking confused.

 

“Uh…” Jerilyn didn’t know what to say to that. Christian seemed to pick up on this and he cleared his throat.

 

“Anyways, back to play rehearsal. My brain is like _bzzz_ , my heart is like _wow_.” He took on a dreamy expression that Jerilyn could’ve looked at for hours. “You know, I think it’s starting soon.”

 

“Wait, really?” Christian nodded. “Well, where’s everyone else?” Jerilyn scanned the room again to see if she overlooked something.

 

“We’ve been slipping in membership lately,” he said sadly. “I guess it’s just the two of us-”

 

And before Jerilyn could even begin to fantasize about that idea, the double door swung open with a _BANG!_

 

“Woo-hoo!”

 

“Let’s start this party!”

 

“Has this theater always been here?”

 

“Aw, gah!” Jerilyn popped up angrily, startling Christian, who also popped up at the prospect of new people. However, before either of them could react to this any further, Ms. Reyes, the play director, strolled in. She surveyed the room, and, upon noticing the increased number students, sighed in relief.

 

“Oh, thank God, the popular students are here,” she said, sweeping her arms out towards them. She then began to address the room.

 

“Hellooooo, everyone!” she exclaimed in a sugary, singsong voice. “My name is Ms. Reyes. You may recognize me from Drama Class, or my full-time job, at the Hobby Lobby.”

 

She said this as if it was a big deal, but Jerilyn didn’t think so. From what she could tell, no one else did either.

 

“Thank you. I’ve been dreaming of the day I get to stage William Shakespeare’s classic, ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’-”

 

“YES!” Christian shouted happily, making Jerilyn jump and everyone else look at him weird.

 

“And today, that dream dies.”

 

“Wha?” Christian looked confused and sad. Jerilyn wished she was confident enough to comfort him.

 

“And is reborn!” Ms. Reyes continued hurriedly. “Just… slightly mutated. The school has informed me that, unless I increase our popularity, our funds with will be diverted. To the Frisbee Golf Team.”

 

She said all this bitterly, but the way Christian scrunched up his nose at this news showed that he obviously cared more about this fact.

 

“Which is why _our_ production will be set, not in a pastoral forest, but a post-apocalyptic future. Instead of frolicking with fairies, there will be fleeing.” She pauses dramatically. “From zombies.”

 

Christian looks affronted. “Don’t you care about Shakespeare?” he asks passionately.  


“The man is dead. Let it go.” Ms. Reyes rolls her eyes before addressing the rest of them. “We will now take a five-minute break, or as I like to call them, a Hot Pocket minute.”

 

In an instant, the chaos is back. The popular kids whoop and yell about how easy this will be, while Ms. Reyes tries to get the scoop on what exactly happened with Matthew. However, Jackie hangs back. She walks over to Christian, and Jerilyn knows this won’t end well.

 

“Hey,” Jackie says, waving to get Christian’s attention. Once she has it, she continues, “You were in that play last year.”

 

“You mean ‘Romeo & Juliet’?” he asks, raising an eyebrow skeptically.

 

Jackie nods. “Yeah, you were the boy who died!” she exclaims dumbly.

 

“You mean Romeo?” Christian raises both eyebrows, and Jerilyn almost laughs out loud. At least she actually paid attention to the play; Jackie couldn’t even remember the characters’ names.

 

“Yeah!” Jackie nods again. “That was depressing.”

 

“Thanks…” Christian says, a wry smile crossing his features.

 

Jackie seems to notice and quickly remedies it. “But… you were good,” she says, smiling. She then offers her hand. “I’m Jackie.”

 

Christian nods slowly, shaking her hand. “I… know.”

 

Jackie’s smile widens. “Cool…” She trails off for a second before continuing. “Um, can I say something stupid?”

 

Jerilyn bites a sarcastic comment as Christian nods.

 

“When I saw you die in the play last year…” she sighs. “That was like the saddest I’d felt in a long time. It was like everything in my life, all the pressure I feel to be the best, at everything, all the time… suddenly felt so small.”

 

Jackie pauses, before continuing, “And then, when you got up at the end for your little victory dance thing…”

 

“It’s called a bow,” Christian tells her, and she nods frantically.

 

“Right!” She grins. “I remember thinking, ‘I’m glad that boy’s not dead, before I got the chance to know him’.” She laughs weakly. “And that’s stupid, right?”

 

Christian gives her a weird stare, before shaking his head.

 

“That’s… not stupid at all,” he says.

 

Jackie nods, grinning wider. “Cool,” she says. She starts to walk away before turning back quickly.

 

“Hey, a bunch of us are going out after practice today,” Jackie says, jabbing a finger at the door. “You should join. ‘Parting is such sweet’...”

 

She trailed off, snapping her fingers to try and jog her memory.

 

“Sorrow?” Christian supplied.

 

“Whatever,” she said, waving a dismissive hand. She then looked in Jerilyn’s direction. “Hey, someone wrote ‘girlf’ on your backpack.”

 

Jackie left, leaving Jerilyn blushing with embarrassment. Shaking her head, she turned to Christian, who was staring at the spot where Jackie had been standing.

 

“So, um, I heard this thing how humans aren’t evolving anymore?” she said, hoping to resume where their conversation had left off.

 

Christian blinked. “I’m sorry, Jerilyn, did you say something?” He was still staring at the spot.

 

Jerilyn sighed. “Nevermind.” She sighed, grabbing her bag and exiting the room.

 

Jerilyn huffed. Once again, she missed her chance with Christian. Scratch trying to survive school, she just wanted Christian to notice her.

 

She pushed open the bathroom door. Swinging her backpack up onto the sink counter, she grabbed a few paper towels and held them under the water. She then proceeded to wash them off.

 

Or she would have if a five-foot-three ball of rage hadn’t walked in.

 

“I told you not to wash that off, bitch!” Rikki yelled, making Jerilyn jump violently.

 

“Oh, um…” Jerilyn’s eyes dart around aimlessly until they fall back on her bag, which she shoves her hands into. “I was just looking for my homework…”

 

“Don’t fucking lie to me, tall-ass!” the shorter girl shouted, causing Jerilyn to hold back an eye roll.

 

“Why do you call me that?” she mumbled as Rikki moved past her into a stall. “I’m not even that tall.” That was a lie; she was taller than most of the kids in her grade. That didn’t mean she had to flaunt it, or let other people flaunt it.

 

A scoff brought her out of her thoughts. “You could be, if you weren’t so hunched over scared all the time,” Rikki said sarcastically. “Literally, the only thing more pathetic than that is the fact that you’re actually trying to inch your way out of here.”

 

Jerilyn stopped in her tracks, since she was trying to do just that.

 

Rikki laughed. “Inching’s for worms,” she said. “You a worm, Jeri?”

 

The stall door creaked open. Jerilyn turned to see Rikki leaning against the stalls.

 

“Uh, how do you, like, hold a conversation when you’re… y’know?” she asked.

 

Rikki shrugged. “Confidence,” she says with an air of boredom.

 

And then, Rikki starts twitching. And muttering under her breath, like she’s talking to someone.

 

Jerilyn doesn’t know how to respond, so she goes with an awkward one.

 

“Um… I just remembered, my mom wanted me home five minutes ago-”

 

“ _Don’t move_.”

 

Jerilyn stopped in her tracks from where she had been inching backwards towards the door.

 

Rikki eyed her weirdly. “You don’t remember me freshman year, do you?”

 

Jerilyn was confused. “Y-you didn’t go here freshman year-”

 

Jerilyn cut herself off when Rikki slammed her fist into the set of stalls.

 

“ _Yes, I did_!” she shouted. “You just didn’t notice. _Nobody_ noticed!” She stopped, and took a deep breath.

 

“In freshman year, I was a nobody,” Rikki said bitterly. “I didn’t have a boyfriend _or_ a clue, and I definitely wasn’t getting invited to any parties.

 

“I was _desperate_ , and everyone could tell, especially the boys.” She laughed, bitter and breathy. “I could hardly flirt, and my boobs? Totally flat.”

 

As weirded out Jerilyn is by all of this, she couldn’t help but blush at that.

 

“God, I was hopeless. Not even that, I was helpless. Every time I’d walk the hallways, I’d trip.” Rikki’s speech started to sound mechanical and practiced. “It got so bad, I honestly started to feel suicidal.”

 

Rikki then looked at Jerilyn with the same weird look from before.

 

“And then, I got it.” She motioned Jerilyn closer, before whispering:

 

“A Squip.”

 

Jerilyn drew back, an eyebrow raised. “You got quick?”

 

Rikki shook her head. “No,” she said, exasperated. “A _Squip_.”

 

Jerilyn was confused. “Sorry, I’ve just… never heard of it before.”

 

“That’s the point,” Rikki told her, as if it were obvious. “This is some top-secret-can’t-even-look-it-up-on-the-internet shit.

 

“It’s from Japan,” she said, sounding mechanical once again. “It’s a gray, oblong pill containing a quantum nanotechnology CPU. The quantum computer in the pill will travel through your bloodstream until it implants itself into your brain and tells you what to do.”

 

Jerilyn scoffed. “What? That’s not even _possible_ -”

 

“ _Shut up, tall-ass_!”

 

The intensity of the shout made Jerilyn screw her eyes shut. When she opened them, she saw Rikki standing over her, black eyes glaring at her angrily.

 

_Wait, black? Weren’t her eyes brown a minute ago?_

 

Before Jerilyn could contemplate more on this fact, realization dawns over the shorter girl.

 

“Sorry, old habits.” Rikki forced a weak chuckle, before sobering quickly. “Look, I’m super sorry for treating you like absolute human trash all the time. I only did it ‘cause my squip said I had to. But now, it’s saying you’re not that bad. That you might want a squip of your own.”

 

Rikki stepped back, regarding Jerilyn with a cautious look.

 

“‘Course, if you don’t want one…”

 

Rikki’s tone sounded dangerous, and Jerilyn found that she didn’t want to find what would happen if she disagreed.

 

“So, it’s like…” she lowered her voice, “drugs?”

 

Rikki chuckled. “It’s better than drugs, Jerilyn,” she said softly, before raising her voice. “It’s from Japan! It’s a gray oblong pill. Quantum nanotechnology CPU. The quantum computer in the pill will travel through your blood until it implants in your brain and it tells you what to do.

 

Rikki grinned widely. “It’s pre-programmed, practically amazing. And it speaks to you directly. All you have to do is follow everything it tells you and it’ll help you act correctly. It’ll help you to be cool.”

 

She turned, splaying her arms out in front of her.

 

“Picture this,” she said. “Nobody cares whether you’re on time or not, ‘cause even the teachers like you. You’ll go to a party every weekend. All because of your squip.”

 

Rikki turned back to her. “I got a hook-up,” she said, “this guy who works at Payless Shoes at the Menlo Park Mall. It’s six hundred.”

 

Jerilyn’s eyes widened. “ _Dollars_?”  


“I swear to God, it’s worth it.” Rikki turned to wash her hands. “Bring me the money on Monday. You’ll see.” She exited the bathroom, and after a few minutes, so did Jerilyn.

 

_It’s from Japan. A gray oblong pill with a supercomputer inside that will tell me how to be cool? I need to discuss this with Michele…_

 

_Ping!_

 

Jerilyn fished her phone out of her pocket, and giggled softly.

 

“Think of the devil, and she’ll text you back,” she joked softly.

**\---**

retroRebellion [RR] began pestering schoolSurvivalist [SS]

 

RR: yo  
SS: hey michele  
SS: do you know what a squip is?  
RR: um, no  
RR: is it technological  
RR: maybe my cousin has heard of it  
SS: your cousin has heard of everything  
SS: also, yeah, maybe  
RR: whod you hear about it from  
SS: rikki  
RR: what were you doing talking to rikki  
SS: i wasn’t  
SS: she came and started talking to me  
RR: why  
SS: i don’t know  
SS: i think she wanted me to buy one  
RR: for real  
RR: how much  
SS: six hundred  
RR: shes scamming you  
RR: shes scamming you super weirdly  
SS: she’s not scamming me  
SS: she just wants me to give her six hundred dollars that she’ll take to the back of a payless  
SS: she’s totally scamming me  
RR: look, jeri, im coming over so we can talk for real  
RR: (because i lowkey wanna game)  
RR: we can talk later  
SS: ok, see you later

 

retroRebellion [RR] ceased pestering schoolSurvivalist [SS]

 

Jerilyn pocketed her phone and began the long trek back to her house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Most of the text handles and all of the quirks belong to zoeticValidation. The colors are not mine, but once I figure out how to add my own colors, I'll add them.

**Author's Note:**

> Whoo! This is the longest thing I've ever written! It took me three days!!! I'm so happy!
> 
> I hope you liked the way I portrayed the characters. I tried my best.


End file.
